


The Pen-Pal Project

by tsukkiguchi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Genderqueer Pidge, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Know Either, M/M, Minor Matt Holt/Shiro, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, broganes, klangst, pen pal au, right now its only T for swearing, they/them pronouns for Pidge, will update tags as fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-22 17:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukkiguchi/pseuds/tsukkiguchi
Summary: For some people, finding a soulmate can take a lifetime.For Lance and Keith, finding their soulmate takes four months; four months chock-full of letters, insults, and pining. No one ever said that connecting with your soulmate would be easy. Go figure.





	1. Chapter 1

_Dear Keith,_

_Good afternoon- or maybe, morning? That depends on the time of day you’re reading this letter, I guess. I’m writing this in the afternoon, when I’m supposed to be doing other work in English class. (But if I didn’t start now, I would never get around to it otherwise. Just being honest!) Right now, we’re supposed to be reading the books we were individually assigned earlier in the year. I got_ Jane Eyre _and, so far, it’s a total bore! Snooze-fest at best; depressing at worst. Not sure if you’ve ever read it; it’s basically about a girl who was abused and bullied when she was a kid… And that’s as far as I’ve gotten. If I wanted this much drama I could’ve just watched one of my abuelas telenovelas- now those have drama worth paying attention to!_

 _Sorry, I tend to ramble- in real life and in my writings; one of the many reasons why I can’t be an author. Another reason being that I hate to write. Which is kind of ironic since I have to write you these letters regularly for the next four months. You might have got paired up with the worst person in the world for this whole pen-pal thing, so sorry in advance. I guess instead of rambling, I should introduce myself? My name is Lance; I’m Cuban, seventeen, and a total catch. Oh geez, now it just sounds like I’m setting up my Tinder profile; which I totally_  don’t _have so don’t try to look me up! Um, I also like foosball (which I’m a beast at, by the way) and I have a secret love for trashy reality television. Fun fact: I’m also a proud Gryffindor! Hopefully you’re a Gryffindor too, so we’ll get along well. (Unless you don’t even like Harry Potter, in which case this bit is entirely irrelevant and confusing for you. Sorry.)_

 _Class just ended and I didn’t get this letter taken away so I call this period a success! (Other than the fact that I didn’t read a single word of_ Jane Eyre _, but whatever.) Hopefully this letter finds you well and all that. “I’m anxiously awaiting your response,” etc, etc. We’ll be writing to each other for quite some time so hopefully we don’t get bored of each other too quickly!_

_Sincerely,_

_Lance._

 

_\------_

Lance flopped onto his bed ungracefully and obnoxiously. After being unnoticed by his roommate, Lance gazed up from his pillow and groaned loudly. His roommate, Hunk, slowly turned around in his chair to gaze at his friend.

 “Something wrong, Lance?” He asked, already knowing his answer. Lance, satisfied with the attention he was now getting, flipped over, laying on his back. The boy looked at the ceiling and pouted, eyebrows furrowing and lips downturned.

 “I finished my letter for this stupid pen-pal project,” He answered, gesturing vaguely towards his desk. His ineloquent excuse for a letter was resting there idly, almost taunting Lance. _Hey, look at me!_ It almost seemed to say. _I’m proof that you’re a crappy writer!_

 “The project’s not stupid,” Hunk responded. This time, it was his turn to frown, turning back to the letter he was currently writing to his own project-partner. “It’s a good way for us to meet new people. “Expand our horizons,” as they say.”

 Lance huffed and yanked his letter off of his desk. “Yeah, well _my_ letter’s stupid,” He grit, trying his best not to crumple the damn thing then and there. “Not only is the writing awful, but I’m completely uninteresting!”

 Hunk rolled his eyes, continuing to write. “You’re the most confident person I know, Lance,” He replied, knowing that “self-confidence,” was just another term for “cocky.” “Where’s this sudden self-deprecation coming from?”

 Lance shrugged lazily and stood up. He carelessly tossed his letter onto his friend’s desk, gesturing at it. “See for yourself,” He replied. Hunk picked up the piece of paper, reading it carefully. As he read, his frown turned into a gentle grin.

 “You’re such a dork, Lance,” He teased, covering his mouth to hide a chuckle. Lance groaned even louder, grabbing his letter back. “It’s not a _bad_ thing to be a dork. It’s endearing!”

 Hunk was right, obviously; about the dork part, anyway. Seventy-five percent of the letter was just Lance rambling while the other twenty-five was useless information that this Keith guy probably didn’t even care about. Lance didn’t even attempt to conceal that the only reason he wrote the stupid note was because he had to for his grade. What if Keith genuinely wanted to make friends through this project, like Hunk? And Lance was acting like he couldn’t give a crap. (Well, it was true, but Keith didn’t need to know that!)

 This whole pen-pal thing gave Lance a weird feeling of anxiety. Not only because of his whole “shit-writing” thing, but because he had no idea who Keith even was. Sure, he probably wasn’t some sort of murderer but what if he was just a straight up douche? Or, even worse, a homophobe? Lance didn’t think he would ever be close enough to this guy to come-out but he would still feel really uncomfortable talking to a self-proclaimed ‘phobe.

 “He’s gonna hate me, Hunk!” He exclaimed draping himself on his best friend’s back. Hunk smiled fondly and patted the arm that was wrapped around his neck. Hunk was pretty accustomed to dealing with his friend’s mood swings.

 “No one could hate you, Lance,” He flattered the boy, still managing to finish up his letter even though he had a body on top of him. “Worst case of scenario: You two don’t have anything in common. So, what? You’d only have to write him vague letters for four months and then it’s over. No big deal, man.”

 Lance nodded slowly, already feeling relieved at his friend’s words. He removed himself and put his letter back on his desk. Then he sat down and contemplated for a few moments.

 Not turning back, he asked, “Who’s your pen pal, by the way?” Hunk cringed as he finished licking his envelope closed and picked up his pen again, finishing it off with the address of the private school the letters were supposed to go to.

 “His name is Pidge,” He answered curiously. Lance rose an eyebrow at the odd name. “No last name either. Just: Pidge.” Hunk shrugged and finished writing. He stretched his back and Lance winced as he heard his back bones crack.

 Uncomfortably gazing at his letter, Lance finally decided _“Screw it,”_ and quickly put it inside the envelope, sealing it quickly before he could change his mind. His heart beat because of his anxiety, but also because of his underlying feelings of excitement and potential.

 Smirking to himself, Lance wrote the address and Keith’s name on the back of the envelope, finishing it with a cheeky heart. He winked at his roommate and kissed the letter, throwing it on his desk and flopping himself back on the bed, taking a well-deserved nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (NOTE'S ABOUT THE FIC:)  
> -Towards the end, Hunk says the line: "HIS name is Pidge." Quick note that, in this story, Pidge uses they/them pronouns and the only reason Hunk doesn't use them is because he doesn't know that Pidge is genderqueer yet.  
> -The Jane Eyre detail sort of seems irrelevant now, but I promise it does contribute to the story! You don't have to have any previous knowledge about the novel to understand, though.  
> -In this AU, the Garrison is a boarding school that Lance and Hunk live at.
> 
> (AUTHOR'S NOTE:)  
> I'm finally back from my year-long hiatus! I'm still trying to get used to the format of this website, but I'll eventually get the hang of it. (Kudos and feedback is greatly appreciated!)
> 
> So, a pen-pal AU. Kind of weird, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head. It's gonna be slow burn, but I hope you'll stick around. Just like my first fic, I really don't have any idea where this is gonna go, but I'm sure it'll turn out (hopefully!) Thank you for reading not only chapter one, but also my little rant. (I'll probably include one of these in every chapter, so be warned!)


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Lance,_

_Thank you for your letter, I received it a few days ago. (I read it in the_ evening, _just so you know.) While I appreciate your letter, perhaps you should focus on class when you are_ in _class? Also, I have read_ Jane Eyre _, when I was a freshman. I quite like it; you just need to keep reading for it to get interesting. You might even find Jane’s character sort of relatable, as I do._

_Sorry to hear about your whole “I-don’t-like-writing,” problem. It’s not my favorite thing either but hopefully we’ll be able to make the best out of this project. Thank you for taking the initiative and introducing yourself first; I suppose I should do the same. My name is Keith; I am Korean, seventeen as well, and I have an older brother. Well, an adoptive older brother. His name is Takashi Shirogane, but we all call him Shiro. Do you have any siblings? Shiro is my only brother and, honestly, one is enough._

_I like reading mostly, but I also took up a boxing hobby not too long ago. It is only something I do as a pastime; I do not enjoy fighting others. And, of course, I know what Harry Potter is. However, I am not a Gryffindor as you were hoping- quite the opposite actually. I am a Slytherin, which I am sure you are not happy about. Sorry._

_I would advise that you refrain from writing in classes you aren’t supposed to, but I guess I can’t really stop you. I hope to hear from you soon, Lance._

_Sincerely,_

_Keith._

\------

“Wow,” Pidge said, adjusting their round glasses. “This is the fakest shit I’ve ever read.” Keith scoffed and grabbed his letter back. He scowled and read it over again.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyes narrowing at his friend. Pidge shrugged and looked back down at their phone.

“For starters, you don’t talk like that,” They said, taking a Buzzfeed quiz entitled _Could you survive in Outer Space?_ “All prim and proper.”

Keith frowned and looked back at his wording. Pidge wasn’t wrong; In real life, Keith was fairly eloquent but also tended to swear quite a bit and never used words like ‘perhaps’ and ‘I would advise that you refrain.’ Only pretentious assholes spoke like that and- Keith paused and then groaned loudly, pressing his face into his hands.

“I’m a pretentious asshole,” He mumbled into his palms. Pidge smirked, both at Keith’s words and the fact that their result on the quiz was, _“Yes, you would survive in Outer Space.”_

“You said it, not me.”

“Well how else should I respond?!” He shouted, flinching as someone seated at the table next to them shushed him and mumbled a quick, "We’re in a library!"

Keith searched through his backpack until he found his pen-pal’s letter and slapped it on the table. Pidge looked up, unimpressed. “There’s a heart on it!” Keith whisper-shouted, pointing at the little shape on the envelope. Pidge suppressed a snort with their hands.

“I mean, you have been looking for a boyfriend, right Keith?” They teased, fighting down more chuckles as Keith’s cheeks flamed. Neither of them reacted to being shushed for the second time.

“Not someone from the Garrison,” Keith nearly hissed, crumpling Lance’s letter in his hand. Pidge rolled their eyes and pried the letter from their friend’s larger hands.

“Someone’s a little salty,” They remarked, uncrumpling the note and smoothing it out. Keith huffed and looked at his hands; he was not still upset about getting kicked out of that overrated boarding school. Nope, not at all, he thought, eying the letter with disdain.

The Garrison wasn’t the part of this project Keith had a problem with- it was his partner. Sure, Keith shouldn’t judge him so early on. The kid probably wasn’t even that bad of a person; but he could at least try to seem interested. At least Keith attempted to make conversation; this Lance kid basically outright said that he didn’t want to talk to Keith.

Keith reasoned that maybe this guy might just be shy. Or might be putting on a façade.

Like Keith was.

“I’m not going to rewrite the entire letter,” He confessed, his scowl slipping into a sadder frown. Pidge finally looked up from their phone and felt their heart clench. The usually stoic Keith was feeling emotion for once and Pidge felt… Weird about it.

Putting their phone aside, Pidge soothed, “There’s no need to, Keith. It’s a good first start with your pen-pal. Lance- that’s his name, right? - won’t think you’re a phony because he doesn’t even know you. To him this is the real Keith; nothing fake about you.”

Keith’s frown slipped into an indifferent line as he nodded, letting Pidge know Keith was grateful for their words. Smirking, Pidge grabbed the letter and envelope. Keith started to object but Pidge ignored him, quickly shoving the letter into the enveloped and licking it shut.

Keith yelled Pidge’s name while Pidge snickered loudly, waving the letter over his head. Suddenly, they were both shaken out of their fighting when a stack of books was loudly dropped on the table next to the two teens.

Both of them looked up slowly and were met with the face of the librarian, a large, menacing grin plastered on her face. “Do try to keep it down,” She spoke, her tone threatening. “Or else I will personally kick you two out.” The two of them nodded without hesitation.

After the librarian left, Keith and Pidge looked at each other, before breaking into a fit of laughter. They covered their mouths with their hands, attempting to shush themselves. After calming down, Keith smiled softly and looked down at his sealed letter.

Not feeling as daring as Lance, Keith picked up his pen and drew a small star near Lance’s name. Before losing his nerve, he also pressed two fingers to his lips and pressed it onto the paper.

Slowly, he looked into Pidge’s eyes. The teen was silent in shock for a moment, before bursting out into loud laughter, not even bothering to cover it up. Keith yelled at them to shut up, ignoring the shushing from the other library patrons once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (NOTES ABOUT THE FIC:)  
> -Please let me know if I ever accidentally mix up Pidge's pronouns!   
> -As you could probably tell, I couldn't really come up with a clever name for the private school Keith and Pidge go to. At first I was thinking, like, "Altea High" or "Galra Academy," but neither of those were too subtle. Let me know if you have any good ideas!  
> -Ah, Jane Eyre. I, like most high school students, was forced to read this "wonderful" novel. (I hope you caught the sarcasm there.) Personally, I take Lance's side and think that it's kinda boring, but everyone else I've met (i.e my classmates) have agreed with Keith. In case you haven't read it, I would like to clarify that when Keith says he relates to Jane that is, in fact, him being a tad angsty. 
> 
> (AUTHOR'S NOTES:)  
> Two chapters in the span of two days? I guess I'm just trying to get the ball rolling. I don't really have a posting schedule, but I can assure you that two chapters in one week is probably not likely. I'm in summer school so it is going to be kinda challenging to balance everything. Some words of encouragement and kudos, though, might motivate me a bit more! (hint, hint)
> 
> Not gonna lie, I kind of thought this might be a flop but hey! It's not! Thank you to everyone reading and leaving kudos, comments, etc. I really appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Keith,_

_I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m writing this letter in the library_ outside _of class. Granted, I originally came here to do homework, but this can technically be considered homework. Plus, I was having a very rare writing… Moment? Whatever the opposite of writer’s block is I have it now! Anyways, part two in the_ Jane Eyre _commentary: Just got to the part where she meets that one guy, Mr. Rochester, I think. I know he’s going to end up being her love interest down the road but I honestly can’t see it. He’s sort of a douche and obviously has a bunch of demons in his closet. But who knows, maybe he’ll redeem himself. I also found out that there’s a_ Jane Eyre _movie so I guess there’s less pressure to read the book now._

_Referring to your siblings’ question, I_ wish _I only had one sibling! I have four siblings: an older brother, older sister and older twin sisters. A ridiculous amount of children, I know. Plus, I’m the youngest of the family. I bet you can guess how much sibling-abuse I had to endure as a child. Sometimes it was cool to have a bunch of other kids living in the house and other times I wanted to curse my parent’s names. It’s easier now since I live at school, but even being forced to hear them fight on the phone is stressful enough. Also, in comparison to my boring ol’ hobbies yours is awesome! I know you said that you don’t fight for sport but, come on, you must have a couple stories up your sleeve. Maybe an asshole you had to put in place? You have to tell (write?) me stories someday!_

_So, I’m going to apologize ahead of time if this seems a little (a lot) blunt. I’m probably overstepping but I think it’s best for the both of us if I address the issue. I haven’t exactly showed you the real me and I’m pretty sure you haven’t showed me the real you either in these letters. From now own I’m going to be myself and talk to you like I talk to everyone else. (even though we aren’t actually_ talking _.) Your writing is really nice and eloquent but I have a sneaking suspicion you don’t act like that in real life. But, hey, even if you do or maybe just don’t want to acknowledge my little call-out because I’m being too forward, you don’t have to stop writing like you normally do. I’m just letting you know that it’s totally cool if we act “chiller” (for lack of a better word) when we write these letters. I don’t want to act totally stiff during these next four months, and I’m sure you feel the same. Excited to hear from you Keith._

_Sincerely,_

_Lance_

Lance grinned as he walked down the hallway. Even though he had been called into an abrupt teacher’s meeting, he was still fairly pleased by his most recent letter to his pen-pal. Taking a page out of Hunk’s book, Lance decided to approach this project optimistically and, hopefully, make a new friend. But no friendship started on lies, which Lance hoped came across clearly in his latest letter.

Even though he was still riding off the high of his note, he was still nervous about this meeting. Mr. Winslow was a tough teacher and Lance wasn’t exactly aiming for perfection in his English class. The teen just wasn’t able to get into the books he was forced to read in class and, obviously, hated writing.

But, he hoped the pen-pal project would not only earn him a friend but also increase his grade. With a regular amount of letter sending, his grade should improve in no time; which was a point he was hoping to bring up at this meeting.

Cautiously, he pulled the door handle down and walked into the English classroom. His teacher was seated at the main, large desk in the room. Mr. Winslow looked up and smiled, motioning to a desk in front of his own. Slowly, Lance walked over, setting his bag on the floor and sitting down.

Mr. Winslow was at least thirty and had curly hair and wire glasses. According to the rumor mill, he had recently been divorced and had about three cats. Lance wasn't sure how someone had managed to figure all that out, but believed them nonetheless. Mr. Winslow looked like the sort of guy that would adopt more cats then socially acceptable. 

While his teacher seemed to be socially inept, he had somehow developed a total white knight complex; always helping kids strive to do their best and achieve their goals. It usually went underappreciated by most of the students and especially by Lance. Lance couldn’t fathom the idea of being a teacher, much less hoping the brats you get stuck lecturing to end up succeeding and having a better life than you did.

“Thank you for meeting me, Lance,” The teacher started, looking a little nervous. Lance bit back a snarky "did I have a choice?" because Mr. Winslow was already clearly lacking in the teacher-self-esteem department and Lance didn’t want to make him feel any worse. He decided on a casual nod.

Then, Mr. Winslow pulled out a piece of paper from his desk drawer. He sighed and Lance winced at how much disappointment could be held inside one, single sigh. His teacher pushed the piece of paper toward Lance and he picked it up.

Looking down, Lance saw that it was a copy of his second semester progress report. Mostly C’s (which “ _were still passing grades_ ,” he always reminded his momma) and one or two B’s.

But, right there underneath his B in art was his English grade that had been highlighted by Mr. Winslow. D is the letter grade accompanied with the class. Since Lance was a teenage boy, he almost made a comment about how _“This isn’t the D I wanted,”_ but he didn’t. Because he raised to be a mature and respectable young man. That still didn't stop him from snorting at said comment.

Lance looked back up at his teacher, eyebrows raised questioningly. Sure, it wasn’t the best grade to have, but after the Pen-Pal assignment was done, it would surely be raised. (“And then plummet again because you probably aren’t going to do your end-of-the-year book report,” He brain unhelpfully supplied.)

“You’re failing, Lance,” Mr. Winslow informed him and Lance couldn’t resist shrugging. He was about to let his teacher know about his upcoming project, but was cut off by another disappointed sigh.

“This may not seem like a big deal now,” The teacher said, taking back the report card and holding it up. “But once you start applying for colleges, which is approaching soon, I might add, admissions directors are going to look at this stuff.”

“Even the C’s, _which are passing grades, I know,”_ Mr. Winslow quickly shot Lance down with a raise of his hand. “Are something to worry about. Excellent colleges aren’t going to accept barely passing.”

Lance cringed at the truth behind those words. Of course, his teacher was right. But he was already a junior in second semester; how was he supposed to change the past three years of slacking off?

“I don’t mean to be so harsh, Lance,” Mr. Winslow apologized, lifting his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “But I really need you to start taking your education seriously. Understood?”

Lance wanted to ask about extra credit or advice on how he could raise his grades, but decided against it. His teacher would probably just laugh at him and tell him to figure it out on his own. Teachers were confusing that way; they tell you to “do your best” and push you to be a better student but refuse to help you “do your best” and be a better student.

So instead, Lance just nodded again and accepted his report card. He shoved it into his bag, frowning as his hand brushed against his letter. He shot his teacher a practiced grin and started to walk out of the room.

“You’re a good student, Lance,” Mr. Winslow made him pause, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “I want you to succeed and I know, deep down, you know that you’ve been needing to pick it up for quite some time.”

Lance refused to acknowledge him, trying his best not to slam the door on his way out. Thankfully, the hallway was empty of students, so no one got the chance to see Lance run to his room, fighting tears the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES ABOUT THE FIC:
> 
> -Obviously, Mr. Winslow is not a character from Voltron. I sort of made him up on the spot because I needed a teacher for Lance and Hunk. Hopefully, the "OC" doesn't throw you off because he's not really important  
> -Fun Fact: I had already written Lance's letter to Keith before the whole "Lance is the youngest sibling" stuff came out. Originally, I wrote Lance with a couple of younger siblings but scratched it last minute ha 
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Clearly, I'm bad at updating and I'm so sorry for the delay! Fortunately, summer school is over and I'm back from vacation. I'm hoping to update more in the future!


End file.
